by Brick
From how he was leaning, it had me checking out that he was looking at a specific person in his crew. A light, bright-looking nigga in baggy clothes and a close crop fade. My eyes narrowed and I stabbed my fork in the chicken, took a bite, and chuckled.
“Yes, I can dig how you might feel about that. Suggestions are like assholes, ya know? Only when explaining to people that debased remarks such as that can get you killed will the person understand. Get me?”
Khalil sat in silence. His sister Trinity burned holes into their crew’s faces with her heated gaze.
“I mean, take the Irish. They will do all they can to come into your world and fuck it up. Like, I don’t know, insert a plant who might make ridiculous suggestions that have only caused you to lose out on deals and almost get you killed. You ever have a situation like that?” I asked steady picking at my plate and eating.
Khalil slowly stood to reached out in front of him and splay his hands on the surface of the table before him. “Actually, my brotha, I have, which is why I called this meeting so early. Niggas been talking. My own people been talking.”
Everyone in the room started to bristle. A few of his people began to speak up. “We’re loyal to this fam,” one said. “Yeah, we’d never break loyalty,” another said.
I smirked with a low-key chuckle. “They’re right, Khalil, but I mean I don’t want to get in your family business like that.”
“No, get in it,” Trinity said standing with a sudden accent. “What do yuh know?”
Shrugging, I made a show of things and took my time before answering. Moving casually around I glanced at everything then pointed to the one Khalil stared at. “Him.”
My man Khalil gave me a chin up with a curled upper lip while looking down his nose at me when I stopped in front of him. He then said, “Nuh ramp wid mi.”
“No need for me to,” was all I said after he said, “Don’t fuck with me.”
Like that, Khalil went bat shit crazy. He furiously pushed his chair over, snatched that dude up, and yanked him in front of me. “Who yuh working fah, nigga? Mi knew yuh were off.” He snarled in heated fury. “Mi knew yuh were actin’ shady fah months now, D’Andre.”
Glaring at me, D’Andre held his hands up and shook his head. “No, no. I’d never play you, boss. I mean that on my daughter, fam.”
“Shoot him in his right pinky toe and see how true that is,” I suggested egging dude on. For some reason, I dug his style. If done right, he might make a great general in training up new soldiers for the Syndicate.
Behind me Lucky chuckled then whispered, “He works for the Irish.”
I nodded watching the entertainment before me in silence. “Yeah. Saw him exit out the back of the pub when we left,” I eventually said.
“But a wah di rass? Oooo, mi hate liars. Put that on yuh daughter? Fah real, D’Andre? That’s so foul,” Trinity said through clenched teeth, her accent thickening.
It was Trinity who walked to D’Andre and slapped him so hard that he flew face first on the table. Baby girl slammed his face against it multiple times. She twisted him by his head, smashed her kicks against his face then lit him up with her Glock hitting his legs. D’Andre’s body shook then fell back near me. Damn, I was kind of impressed.
Interesting enough, there was blood on my boots and a neck under it. Was I the cause of it? Maybe. Was I the one who pulled the trigger that had my boot covered in another nigga’s fluids? No. Not this time. What was I doing through all the fun? Shieet, holding a plate of chopped jerk chicken with roti and standing in front of a table full of Jamaicans and others representing the Caribbean.
Thanks to Trinity dropping that nigga in front of me, I figured that I’d play as well by stepping on his neck and watching him struggle to breath, all while eating. That’s how I got blood on my boot.
“How long have you been with the Irish? Saw you exit their pub, my friend,” I asked licking my fingers then setting my plate down on a table beside me. “My bad, Khalil, go on and handle this homie.”
Both Khalil and Trinity stood over D’Andre. Trinity motioned to one of their people and I watched someone disappear to the back coming forward with a woman and a little girl. It was then that Trinity punt kicked D’Andre in the head then walked over to the girl.
“Yuh hear his lying ass?” she asked the crying girl.
The girl shifted her baby on her hip and covered the infant’s face nodding. “Yeah. I knew he wasn’t shit. Knew he’d throw us to the wolves.”
“A wah di bloodclaat dew yuh? Das why mi tell all dem females dat come ’round dat yuh have ta protect yuh pussy. No matter who it is. Trust no shifty dutty dick nigga like him or yuh end up in fuckery like yuh are now.” Trinity flipped her hair out of her face and kissed the girl’s cheek. “Thank yuh for coming to me, Peachy.”
“You ratted on me, Peachy?” D’Andre gurgled blood coming from his mouth.
“Hell yeah, I did! When I saw you with those niggas who shot up my last man, I was too done. I hate your ass for this. I knew you weren’t getting all that money from the family. Knew it!” she spat out.
“Bitch, so? You were still living off that shit like I was. I’m going to kill your trifling ass,” D’Andre said trying to get to her.
Too bad he didn’t make it far.
Plucking the sleeping baby from the girl’s hand Trinity cradled the infant against her heart then let a bullet pop off against the mother’s temple. Eyes frozen in pure shock, Peachy fell to her knees backward gone to the world as Trinity then turned her Glock on D’Andre with a wink.
Gotdamn, rang in my mind. That girl was sick with it.
“Mi dun trust no thieving sketz rats,” she said with a smug smile. “As for yuh, wah yuh story, oh yuh. Yuh half Irish, eh? Thought yuh could get in on some Sons of Anarchy bullshit and run out on us? Damn that’s shady. Yuh baby girl is going to hate yuh grave.”
“Don’t touch my—” was the last thing D’Andre ever said.
By that time Khalil allowed his switch blade to run against his neck and left him there to bleed out from ear to ear.
I wasn’t sure why they killed the mother, but I gathered she was on some bullshit too. Scratching my jaw, I just shrugged it off. It wasn’t my business on that end of things. I watched Rize give both people a salute then go to sit down. I also noticed how Trinity would glance past me toward Lamont every so often. If anything sparked between them, then I knew shit would be interesting. Once the pair sat like a king and queen at their table, the bodies were quickly moved out by the rest of their crew. Immediately after, several old ladies came out with cleaning solution washing the floors clean as if nothing had gone down. My boot even was given respectful treatment, which I appreciated greatly.
Waving a hand for us to sit, Khalil reclined and sighed. “I hate doing that type of shit, but it has to be done. Clean house or bugs will flourish.”
“No judgment on my end. I find that a smart business move. Right, Uncle?” I said toward Snap.
Uncle Snap rocked back in his chair. He folded his hands and gave a slight chuckle as if he was privy to some secret only he knew. “That’s correct, nephew. If I may speak on his behalf. In a couple of minutes here, you’ll be meeting with the California connects.”
“Explain to us how we should interpret a move like that, considering your history with my mama.” I said finishing it for him and nodding at him in respect.
Khalil cleared his throat. He stared me in the eye with a mature expression on his face and slowly he leaned forward. “It’s simple: we wish to expand and grow. We’re hoping to get the attention of the Syndicate in hopes that they’ll see that we mean business. Yeah, we all are some kids from the street, but we’ve made old-world moves worthy of respect; and this branch of the California pipeline we hoped we could lay at their feet.”
Digesting what he said, I leaned back to tent my fingers against my lips before speaking. “As of now, the Syndicate is in the process of changing as you all know,” I said.
&
nbsp; “Yes, Ms. Claudette taught us so much,” Trinity said in earnest. “We’d never try to break our ties with her,”
“I’m counting on that. Allow me to introduce you to our newest chair, Lucky Acardi representing the NYC circuit and pipeline. With him now in the fold, I’m planning to bring something fresh to the Syndicate. If you all continue to prove to be on the same mind level as me, nothing but good will come toward this family. I promise you that. You all held Mama down, and I intend to do the same,” I explained.
It was then that the front door of the restaurant opened. Everyone stood as two of the Lion’s main bodyguards walked in with large men behind them. Anxiousness had me readying for whatever as I saw to the right of me. Monty and Lucky also shifted their weight waiting this out while Uncle kept my back protected. As the group moved in, one of the Lions locked the front door then nodded our way.
The group parted like the Red Sea, and then before us was a woman I was familiar with from my research, Sato Ayame; but what had my mouth dropping in surprise was the male at her side, my assistant, Danny Ito. Apparently my research wasn’t shit, because there was no way that I knew he was part of the California connect. Shit, from the confused look in his eyes, I could tell that he was thinking the same about me.
Dressed in a clean black-and-white suit, I watched Danny step up, then bow before speaking. “Khalil and Trinity of the Caribbean Lions, we are thankful for your gracious invitation.”
Sato Ayame stayed where she was. She watched all of us with knowing eyes. Dressed in a clinging caramel-toned dress with matching shoes, she held a clutch in front of her as she stood in regal authority. Hair pulled into a long ponytail, it hung over her shoulder, showcasing her diamond-studded ear.
“Ito Daisuke,” Khalil said bowing, then turning toward the woman next to Danny. “Sato Ayame. Welcome to our home. Allow me to introduce my personal guests, Javon McPhearson, current head of the Syndicate, along with his newest chair, Lucky Acardi, representing New York City.”
Danny turned my way then bowed. I wondered if he would betray our connection, but he didn’t as he said, “It is a pleasure.”
Returning the gesture, I gave him a look that let him know that we would be having our own meeting later to discuss this. “Indeed. Welcome to Atlanta,” I said turning to give my respects to Sato Ayame as well.
“Everyone, please have a seat,” Trinity said, all sassy tones in her voice turning very professional.
Once everyone took a chair, business commenced with Sato Ayame saying, “I am very familiar with the Syndicate and the recent changes within. I find this meeting very accommodating in us all gathering in such a manner. So, please, let us all speak to each other as friends. I am Ayame and, Javon, I look forward to signing a contract with you. Isn’t that right, brother?”
Danny looked my way then gave me a smile. “I believe working with Javon would be for the best of us. Let’s get to business shall we?”
Glancing at my uncle feeling cocky, I grinned.
“What just happened there, nephew?” Uncle Snap said in my ear with his hand curled near his mouth.
“Money, that’s what happened. I’ll explain later,” I told him.
Once everything was over, he and I did have our talk, where I explained that I knew Danny. As we spoke on it, Lamont went to his ride to drop Lucky off. Exhausted from the day, I was chilling in the back of the truck with my arm partially over my face glancing at my cell when it rang while Uncle Snap drove.
“Talk to me,” I said glancing at my cell. Because I had been so busy, I realized that I had various missed calls.
“Von, it’s me, Naveen. Shanelle was in the hospital,” I heard him say in worry.
Angst hit me hard as I cursed. “What the hell happened? Fuck that. I’m picking you up.”
It didn’t take nothing to get to Mama’s house. Uncle Snap drove us there like a madman in order to get Naveen. Once he hopped in the car, he told me everything.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so the hospital called the house because Mama was still down as her emergency contact,” he explained hurriedly putting his seat belt on.
“I know, I know. What happened?” I asked repeating myself.
Naveen had this panicked look on his face that only made everything worse for me. I swear I almost snatched that little dude by his neck but I kept my cool. I needed to know about Shanelle.
“She’s not there! I don’t know where she’s at though,” he explained causing me to dig my phone out.
“What do you mean . . . Never mind, I got this,” I said calling the missed call number on my cell.
Reaching the hospital, after being put on hold, I finally got through and learned that she had discharged herself. Pissed, I went off livid.
“Mr. McPhearson, I’m sorry but we can’t stop her from leaving if she is adamant about it,” the woman said in my ear.
Livid and not thinking straight, I went off, “If she’s adamant about it? Have you all lost your goddamn mind? She was attacked and you all let her go?”
The nurse on the end began stumbling. Had it not been for Uncle Snap taking the cell from me, I would have gotten in her damn ass. I was fuming, furious that they had lost Shanelle. Rubbing my face, I felt my world tilt with all types of crazy thoughts, until Uncle Snap’s voice drew my attention. I heard him explain to the nurse that Shanelle had a phobia about hospitals and that he appreciated the nurse’s patience to be helpful. He then became silent before calling my name.
“Von, she called you, nephew, multiple times. She’s at your place,” he said. “We’re on our way,” he adding making a U-turn.
Glancing at me, Naveen reached out and squeezed my shoulder. Little dude had tears in his eyes and that made everything harder for me. “If she left on her own, then she’s not that hurt, I hope. I mean that,” he said with worry in his eyes. “Nelle never gets sick and always acting like she’s not hurt even if she has an accident. This is the same thing,” Naveen explained. “I know she’s okay, Von. I feel it,” he continued. His voice held a tone of admiration and care that he tried to hide due to machismo.
I didn’t know what to say. All I could do was nod, because it was true. When we were kids, if she ever got hurt, Shanelle would never let Mama know. She’d just show up with a Band-Aid or something, while acting as if she could take on the world. That’s how she always was, but I couldn’t stop myself from being worried about her.
Once we made it to my place, I rushed up the stairs opting not to take the elevator then quickly unlocked the door to my place. When I opened the door, Shanelle stood there bruised with anger in her eyes.
“Where the hell were you!” she shouted rushing me and hitting me with her fist. “I’ve been calling all day, Von, all day! Fucking pigs were questioning me as if I were a criminal. I mean I am but fuck! I needed you.”
“I know, I know. Bay, I know.” Stumbling back, I reached out, picked her up then held her to me. My thoughts were racing and all I could do was hold her. “What happened?” I whispered against her, forgetting everyone behind me.
“I called you, Von,” she said struggling to hit me again. “The Irish. I think the Irish came after me.”
Tension had me pulling slowly back as I made her explain to me what happened. Bastards had, yet again, fucked with the wrong one. Retaliation was going to be a motherfucker once I was done.
Chapter 15
Jojo
“Damn, Jojo, what took you so long to get here, nigga?”
I cut my eyes at the white boy who called me that. I’d told that son of a cracker over and over not to call me the N word. He didn’t have the right to, but he never listened. Next to him stood his blond sister who was every black man’s worst nightmare. She was a beautiful white girl who was irresistible to most niggas, even me. We fucked a couple times, but I had to leave her alone. Pussy was too wet. Too good and too distracting. She was twenty-one and shouldn’t have even been fucking with me when she had been; but she wasn’t too happy
when I cut her off. She had nothing besides sex to offer me as she was using me so she could keep tabs on me for her brother.
We’d agreed to meet by some abandoned railroad tracks near downtown ATL. No one would be around at that time of night; at least, no one who would care what we were doing there. Cars drove over the bypass above us, clueless to the drug deal going down just a few hundred feet below them. About twenty or so men and women flanked Crum and Calista, all dressed in their usual preppy attire.
“You call me that again, Crum, and I’ma break my lacrosse stick across your pug face. You don’t get to call me the N word,” I told him. No, I didn’t like to fight, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t.
The tall, all-American-looking white boy stopped smiling then frowned at me. “It’s just a word, son. Stop being so sensitive. If you say it to one another, why can’t I?”
“Fuck you, Crum. You bring the money?” I asked. I didn’t have time school him on why his dumb ass didn’t have the right to call me a nigga even if my black brothers and sisters did.
Crum chuckled and signaled to one of the boys from his clique. X-clusive had been one of my top buyers since junior year. The money I made from them kept me afloat when I needed to order shit like chemicals and tools for my lab. It was supply and demand with X-clusive. The more they demanded, the more I supplied. Crum tossed the bag at my feet. I normally always made these drops alone, but for some reason tonight I wished I hadn’t. I didn’t know what it was, but the hair on the back of my neck was standing up.
I checked the money quickly before tossing the bag of product to him. I watched him look in the bag eagerly. He pulled out a Ziploc bag full of the Skittle-like drugs. He grabbed a handful, tossed a few in his mouth, and then shared with his twin sister.
“This my last delivery. I’m out,” I told Crum. “And you shouldn’t eat those like candy. It’s easy to OD that way.”
